


I Just Want You For My Own

by drfitzmonster



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:51:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5510849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drfitzmonster/pseuds/drfitzmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angie decides that Christmas Eve is the perfect time to tell Peggy how she really feels about her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Just Want You For My Own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badndngirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badndngirl/gifts).



> This is for badndngirl, who I have been friends with for 16 years, and who I love the most.

Angie had been planning this night for almost two weeks. To be specific, she had been planning it since the night she and Peggy almost kissed. The pair had fallen asleep together on the settee in the parlor while listening to a radio play of _A Christmas Carol._ They were both so exhausted they’d nodded off before the first spirit visited Ebenezer Scrooge. Peggy awoke to a chill in the air, the fire having died out hours ago. She shivered. The colored lights from the tree Angie had insisted on erecting and decorating cast a soft glow onto the room. Angie looked every bit her name as she leaned against Peggy, snoring softly. Her head lolled to the side and her cheek rested on Peggy’s shoulder.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Peggy whispered in Angie’s ear, jostling Angie’s shoulder gently with her own.

Angie startled awake with a sharp intake of breath. She turned her head, slowly, until they were facing each other, until they were so close they were breathing the same air.

“Hi,” Angie whispered.

“Hi,” Peggy answered, clearing her throat. She moved forward, minutely, infinitesimally, and for a moment their shared breath swirled between their lips, charged with possibility.

And then, abruptly, Peggy moved back, practically leaping from the settee. “Um, I… it’s late, and well, goodnight,” she said before she fled the room, leaving Angie to wonder if she had only imagined what just happened.

***

That was twelve days ago, twelve days that Angie had been scheming because she _felt_ it. She felt their mutual desire like a thousand needle pricks on her skin. It would wash over her unexpectedly, leaving her flushed and breathing unevenly. The feeling was as real as any object she could touch, and she was compelled to hold on for dear life.

Tonight was _the_ night: Christmas Eve. This night was ripe with magic and the promise of redemption. It was a singular moment, one in which Angie felt strangely emboldened. It was Christmas, after all. It was Christmas, and everything would be just so. Angie would make her confession. It would be not just a confession, but a gesture of love, pure and true, as befit the season.  It would be perfect and lovely, and Peggy would be enamored. That's what Angie hoped, anyway.

Angie had trouble working out the timing since she was not entirely sure when Peggy would arrive home. Peggy claimed she’d be leaving the office at 7, but Angie knew there were no guarantees. She was so nervous about everything—the logistics, the fact that she was speaking out loud what she’d been harboring safely inside her for so long, just everything—that she almost dropped her meticulously-prepared sage-stuffed loin of pork as she carried it to the oven.

After depositing the dish securely in the oven without any major disasters she had to sit down and calm herself for a moment. She had put so much of herself into this evening, purchasing wreaths and garlands, candles, and an elaborate centerpiece made of holly, balsam, and pine. She had scoured the mansion for the proper table linens and rifled through the china cabinets for the perfect set of dishes. She had even braved the spider-infested wine cellar to find a bottle of wine.

Angie sat at a small table in the kitchen, staring at her trembling hands while the pork cooked in the oven, happily bubbling. She still needed to make the candied sweet potatoes and the braised chestnuts and Brussels sprouts, but those could wait until she stopped shaking. Angie let out a hitched breath and ran her hand slowly through her hair. She’d waited so long for this night, and now that it was here, the gravity of it frightened her.

What if Peggy reacted poorly to her declaration? What if Peggy was repulsed? What if Peggy threw Angie out of the house? What if she never wanted to speak to her again? Certainly this night would change their relationship, no matter what, but Angie did not know if she could to handle losing Peggy as a friend. Neither could she bear to keep her love a secret any longer. It seemed an impossible choice. So impossible that all Angie could do was weep quietly.

***

The clock on Peggy’s desk read 6:45, one minute later that the last time she’d consulted it. She’d been at her desk staring at the same dossier for the past hour. She had, in fact, been attempting to read the same exact paragraph for that long. She just couldn’t concentrate. In all her life she’d never been filled with such dread. Briefly glancing at the clock—6:47—she opened her desk drawer and pulled out a small velvet jewelry case. It contained an emerald pendant that once belonged to Angie’s grandmother. The stone had come loose from its setting, and Peggy had surreptitiously taken it to be repaired. It was to be Angie’s Christmas present, along with Peggy’s admission that she was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her. Peggy’s only wish, the only gift she wanted, was for Angie to love her in return.

Peggy closed her eyes, sighing heavily. This was it. This was her chance. Ever since that night when they’d both fallen asleep on the couch, she’d known what she needed to do. And now, she was finally going to do it. She was not one for grand gestures, but telling Angie like this, on Christmas Eve, with all that it implied, felt right.  Peggy flipped open the case and scrutinized the necklace. She angled the case this way and that so she could watch the light play off the facets of the stone. It was a modestly-sized gem, but dazzling nonetheless. Peggy imagined how it would look resting just below the hollow of Angie’s throat, framed by the collar of her blouse. She took a ragged breath. Looking back at the clock, she shook off the heat that bloomed under her skin. It was 7:02, time for her to go.

***

By the time Angie finished the cooking the entire ground floor of the mansion was permeated with the fragrant aromas of the food she had prepared. If she weren’t so completely overcome with anxiety she would have congratulated herself on orchestrating such a fine meal. She laid everything out on the table in the formal dining room, piece by piece, adjusting the placement of things as she went, until everything was to her liking. Angie had nothing left to do but pace back and forth and try to decide if she should light the candles yet.

When she heard a car idling outside she began to panic. Peggy was home. It was finally time. Angie took a deep, shuddering breath, and pulled nervously at the hem of her cardigan. She felt silly, almost silly enough to change her mind about the gift she’d chosen for Peggy. She steeled herself, however, and quickly lit the candles on the table. She made one minor adjustment to the centerpiece, and then sat, for lack of something better to do. And then she waited. Her hands jittered about, seemingly of their own accord, until she clasped them purposefully in her lap. Had she been wrong about Peggy’s arrival? Maybe she was hearing things. She closed her eyes and counted backwards from ten, trying to calm her nerves. She was unsuccessful.

***

Peggy stood just outside the front door. She clutched the jewelry case in one hand, and in the other she held a bouquet of violets. She had almost decided against that particular type of flower. Was it not a bit gauche to go with something so obvious? Ultimately, though, her heart had won out. Who cared if the gesture were inelegant? She felt inelegant, out of control, even. She had never been more terrified. Nothing that happened during the War—not even getting shot—could hold a candle to this moment. Peggy began to feel foolish standing there frozen to the spot. She was Margaret Carter, Agent of the SSR, after all. She’d parachuted into enemy territory more times than she could count. She’d handled some of the most dangerous weapons technology that existed. She’d even helped save the Earth from annihilation. She’d done all this, and more, despite the fact that many of her male colleagues had a vested interest in her failure. Peggy Carter knew her value, and yet, here she was, scared of entering her own home.

It was just Angie on the other side of the door, she reminded herself. Except that was exactly the problem: it was _Angie_. Angie was her best friend—her only friend, if she were being honest with herself. She’d been there all along, supporting Peggy, trusting Peggy, even when she shouldn’t have. And now there was a chance that she’d lose Angie for good. The thought made a small sob escape from her throat. It surprised her. She shook her head, screwing up her courage. She was accomplishing nothing just standing there. It was time to be bold. Peggy nodded once, and entered.

***

Angie jumped when she finally heard Peggy’s heels clicking as she rounded the corner from the foyer and crossed the threshold into the dining room. She stopped abruptly when she saw Angie rise from the beautifully dressed table. The decorations, while splendid, were vastly overshadowed by the food. Two plates were heaped with portions of pork, sweet potatoes, and Brussels sprouts, all hot and steaming still. A loaf of crusty bread had been sliced and fanned out in a basket lined with a red and green cloth.

“Merry Christmas, Peg.” Angie said, pouring them each a glass of wine from the bottle she’d selected.

“Angie,” Peggy marveled. “It’s wonderful.” She looked down at the gifts in her hands. They seemed paltry in comparison to the lush spread Angie had provided for the two of them. Peggy cleared her throat, moving her hands to her sides self-consciously.

“I did it all for you,” Angie remarked shyly. “Are those for me?” she asked, indicating the flowers.

“These, well… yes.” She moved forward stiffly and handed the bouquet to Angie.

She regarded the flowers, then said, “Peggy these are violets.”

“They are.”

“And you know what violets mean?”

“I do.”

“Oh,” Angie said quietly.

“And this,” Peggy blurted, shoving the jewelry case into Angie’s hand. “I got you this.”

Angie stared blankly for a moment before opening the case. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed when she realized what she was looking at. “My grandma’s necklace… you fixed it.” She looked up at Peggy, her eyes beginning to well up with tears. “Will you help me put it on?”

Angie’s mind was reeling. She could scarcely believe what was happening, but here she was cradling a bouquet of flowers and waiting for Peggy to put the only piece of jewelry she ever treasured around her neck. 

Peggy gently lifted the necklace by its chain and moved behind Angie. She was so close Angie could feel the warmth of her body. It sent an electric charge through her. Peggy’s arms encircled her as she pulled the necklace around and fastened it at the back of her neck. Peggy lingered there, brushing the skin at the back of Angie’s neck with her fingertips. It gave Angie goosebumps. Peggy drew her hand away and leaned in, placing a soft, brief kiss against Angie’s bare skin.

Angie gasped at the sensation. She turned slowly so she could see Peggy’s face. Peggy was blushing, eyes downcast, her lips curled into a sheepish smile.

“Angie I—”

“Wait.” Angie interrupted. “I got you something, too.”

“You did?” Peggy asked, looking up.

“Yes.” Angie quickly unbuttoned her cardigan. She took a deep breath. “Me,” she almost whispered, pulling her sweater open.

Peggy could see around Angie’s midsection a red ribbon tied into a bow. It stood out against the dark fabric of Angie’s dress.

“Do you like it?” Angie asked.

“Darling,” Peggy took Angie’s hands and pulled her closer. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

They kissed then, cautiously at first, and then with increasing enthusiasm. Angie could still smell a hint of Peggy’s perfume. It was bright, and feminine, and it made her light headed. She clutched at Peggy’s waist, pulling their hips together. Angie felt swept away. She was practically buzzing. Her Christmas wish had come true, and it was better than she ever imagined it could be. She knew Peggy felt the same.

Angie broke their kiss and cupped the side of Peggy’s face gently. “Merry Christmas, baby,” she said.

“Happy Christmas, darling,” Peggy replied.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make this super cheesy because Christmas. I'm not sure I succeeded. I hope you liked it. Merry Xmas!


End file.
